


Yo Girl, Keep It Together

by hazardfilmz



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Body Image, Coming Out, Depression, F/F, F/M, Gender Dysphoria, I promise it won't just be June being sad the whole time, JuneRezi will be the main ship, Language, M/M, Self-Hatred, There will be more interactions as soon as she gets to the party, Trans Female Character, Trans Female John Egbert, Trans John Egbert, Trans Male Character, Trans Male Roxy Lalonde, Trans Roxy Lalonde, minor Transphobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-24
Packaged: 2021-03-27 08:48:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30120216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazardfilmz/pseuds/hazardfilmz
Summary: John Egbert has been isolating himself from the world for far too long, and it's about time he figured out just why he's being such a shut-in.[June Egbert coming out fic! Also conveniently my first fic on AO3? I needed a vent for my own dysphoria and such, and writing about June Egbert is a good way for me to do that, unsurprisingly.]
Relationships: Dave Strider/Karkat Vantas, John Egbert/Terezi Pyrope, June Egbert/Terezi Pyrope, Rose Lalonde/Kanaya Maryam, Roxy Lalonde/Calliope, Vriska Serket/Terezi Pyrope (Former/Mentioned)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 24





	1. Un Tourbillon de Chagrin

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is still being written, I have 2 chapters down already but I'm still working on it! Expect more to come when I wrangle the motivation to sit down and work on my favorite windy girl. Also WOW I underestimated how hard formatting dialogue would be, but I think I'm getting the hang of it. I hope.

It’s mid-February on Earth C.

The sun rises over a cold day in Can Town as we set our eyes on a distinctly non-can shaped house on the outskirts of town. That house belongs to you, John Egbert. You’re still in bed by this hour, at least until the sun shines in through your window and casts light upon you. You squint and turn onto your side, pulling a pillow over your head.

Just as you’ve escaped the overbearing eyestrain of the frustratingly persistent ball of plasma, though, your alarm clock goes off. You slap an arm out beside you in attempts to silence it, missing several times.

Eventually you admit defeat and sit up, sliding your glasses on and turning your alarm off. You know Earth C is supposed to be perfect, but is it too much to ask for just one day of overcast in February?

Grabbing your phone off the bedside table reveals that you’ve gotten... Several texts already? At only 9:30? Strange.

Whatever, you pass it off and start reading. 

\-- turntechGodhead (TG) began pestering ectoBiologist (EB) \--

TG: dude  
TG: you awake  
TG: weve been trying to reach you for like an hour  
TG: i know you sleep like a lumbering cave bear but dont you own an alarm clock  
TG: or a machine that pies you in the face at six in the morning every day  
TG: and you just wipe the whipped cream off your face and go ‘five more minutes’  
TG: am i getting this right  
TG: this sounds like a plausible crockerbert fact of life  
TG: anyways idk how long youre gonna be comatose for so ill see ya

\-- turntechGodhead (TG) ceased pestering ectoBiologist (EB) \--

Well, fuck. Missed that one. But you don’t see what the big deal is? You wake up around this time every day. What should make today any different?

\-- gardenGnostic (GG) began pestering ectoBiologist (EB) \--

GG: hey john!!  
GG: happy valentine’s day! :D

Oh.

Shit.

GG: do you have any plans? a few of us were planning on hanging out today!  
GG: you can bring your date and everything  
GG: we haven’t seen you in a while and i’m sure everyone would love to see you  
GG: myself included!

Oh boy this is bad, what are you supposed to say?

GG: hellooo? john?  
GG: you there? it says you’re online  
EB: hi, jade!  
EB: haha happy valentines day to you too!  
GG: there you are! i knew you’d reply :)  
GG: so what do you think?  


She’s really excited about this party, isn’t she? God, you really don’t want to let her down, but at the same time you... Really don’t want to go? Is that mean? You haven’t really had the energy for human interaction for a while now. It’s best for you to just feign ignorance and hope you can squirm your way out of going like always. It isn’t that you hate your friends, far from it! You just, don’t want to let anyone down or make a situation uncomfortable by letting them see you like this.

EB: uh, about what?  
GG: the party, john!  
GG: don’t play dumb with me, i know you read my messages above this!  
EB: oh right  
GG: who do you want to bring?  
GG: can’t do a valentine’s party without valentines!  
EB: uh  
EB: nobody?  
GG: ah  
GG: don’t worry about it! i’m just pulling your leg  
GG: you don’t need a date to come :P  
EB: no no no it’s okay  
EB: i’ll be fine staying home today, i promise you  
EB: i want you guys to enjoy yourselves  
GG: john...  
EB: i swear i’ll be okay just like.. watching the notebook and enjoying the lower chocolate prices! haha  
EB: or maybe 50 first dates? there’s something about an awful adam sandler flick and valentine’s day that go together so well  
GG: john  
EB: like oh my god do you remember how bad that movie was?  
EB: i’m almost glad we didn’t see the future of our earth in that regard.. heh  
EB: because happy gilmore and billy madison are such classics!  
EB: and i don’t know about you but it was kind of sad seeing the stuff adam sandler was in around that time  
EB: like even as a kid i kind of knew those movies sucked  
GG: john!!!!  
EB: h-huh?  
GG: i don’t actually care if you have a date or not!!  
GG: and i’m sorry but i don’t really give a shit about stupid adam sandler either!!  
EB: oh  
EB: um  
GG: okay maybe i’m not sorry but..  
GG: that’s not the point :/  
GG: the truth is  
GG: i wanted to see you  
GG: we all do  
GG: i can hardly remember the last time anybody spent time with you in person  
GG: and as your sister it makes me really sad :(  
EB: i’m  
EB: i’m sorry  
GG: apology accepted  
GG: but i’d still like an explanation  
EB: i’ve just been going through some things lately  
GG: john.. lately has been... more than a year now.  
EB: what?  
GG: the last time i can confidently say i saw you in the flesh was for rose’s 21st birthday  
GG: she turns 23 in December  
GG: we’re worried about you  
EB: aaahh you don’t need to be!  
EB: i  
EB: sorry i feel really weird talking about this  
GG: then will you please come to the party?  
GG: it might be easier in person  
GG: we can find some time on the balcony to be alone if it would help?  
EB:  
EB: okay  
EB: i’ll go  
GG: thank you, john  
GG: sorry i know this is a lot to drop on somebody! >_>  
GG: but i’m really glad you’re willing to come out here  
EB: it’s okay, heh  
EB: where’s the party being held at?  
GG: my house!  
GG: i guess in all the excitement i never really said that, oops  
EB: it’s alright  
EB: do you um..  
EB: want me to bring anything?  
GG: to the party?  
EB: yeah! like snacks or drinks  
GG: drinks maybe!  
GG: i meant to grab some when i was buying party essentials but i totally forgot alcohol and only got soda hehe  
GG: and i was going to ask someone to grab some on their way here but i don’t trust dave to do it and asking rose to buy liquor makes me feel guilty :|  
EB: i understand  
EB: so, just. beer?  
GG: anything is fine, just nothing too cheap and gross  
EB: what time should i be there?  
GG: around 6! you’ve got some time to get lunch and stuff first  
EB: will do!  
GG: hehe  
GG: see you there, okay?  
EB: definitely  
GG: alright!  
GG: and thanks again, i really miss you  
GG: i’ll see you soon! <3  


\-- gardenGnostic (GG) ceased pestering ectoBiologist (EB) \--

You turn your phone off and set it down to your left. What the hell have you gotten yourself into?

Okay, 6pm? You’ve got. Eight hours, wow. Suddenly you have no idea what to do with that time. Whatever, right now you need to get ready for the day, party or no party.

It takes you a few more minutes before you actually get out of bed, but you make it, shuffling to the bathroom down the hall. You walk past the mirror without so much as glancing at it before you’re in front of the shower. You undress, looking at the ceiling, and step in. You bathe absentmindedly, setting your mind on other things.

Showers always seem to put a damper on your mornings. It’s something about the way the soap slides down over your body, bringing attention to each inch of you; or the way you have to look when you scrub your skin with the soapy washcloth? Maybe you just don’t like getting wet.

You turn the water off and step out, reaching for your towel and drying off. You go through the motions methodically. Head first, then arms, chest and legs. You’ve gotten it down to a tee, optimized to take less of your time, faster so you can get back to being fully clothed. There’s just something so comfortable about slipping into a huge hoodie and some sweatpants after a shower.

You rub your face as soon as you’re dry, feeling the individual bristles of stubble and the way each one sticks out of your face. You tell yourself you’ll just shave later, but as soon as you know it’s there, you can’t stop thinking about it. You sneak a look at the mirror to check the damage and then.

You can’t look away.

It’s just you, naked?  
You face the mirror with your whole body and lift your arm, kind of expecting the man in the mirror to not do the same; like the mirror was replaced with a window with a man on the other side.

...Is that what you look like?  
He... Doesn’t look like you.  
What’s going on?

You turn your whole body away from the mirror just as tears start to form in the corners of your eyes.

You shuffle awkwardly down the hall and slam your bedroom door behind you. You tear through your wardrobe, throwing clothes on haphazardly; a t-shirt, boxers, sleep slacks, a breath hoodie, all the while wind billows at your feet. You aren’t looking at it. Out of sight out of mind. But you feel it. Your breathing speeds up, why aren’t baggy clothes calming you down? What the fuck is going on?? You’re nearly hyperventilating now, gusts of wind at your feet scattering the contents of your bedroom floor. You can feel your shirt hugging your chest like iron filings to a magnet, and suddenly you’re drowning in your own skin.

You claw at the fabric but you don’t have any nails, loose papers and other small objects whirling in the breeze around you like you’re in the eye of a room-sized tornado. You shut your eyes tight. Out of sight out of mind. There’s so much air but you can’t breathe. You’re curled up into a ball on the floor, tears whisking off of your face and turning the tornado into a hurricane. The breeze is closing in around you, spherically, until the eye of the hurricane is the only thing that’s left. You are the eye, and it’s closing. Out of sight out of mind.

Then it explodes.


	2. Des Maux de Tête et de L’alcool

You open your eyes, rolling onto your side and wiping tears away. One look at your clock proves you’ve been on the floor for... 6 hours, nearly. You take in your room.

It’s ruined. All of it.  
Posters are half ripped off of the walls, your computer broken on the ground, windows cracked, you don’t even know where the fuck your bedsheets are. You hold your head in your hands, the pattern of your carpet imprinted lightly on one side of your head from lying down on the floor.

You stay that way for a while, unable to find a purpose in moving.

So.  
That’s new.  
Uh.

You can’t even remember what happened. What the hell got you here? What scared you so badly that you spiraled out of control like that???

Then you remember.  
The bathroom mirror.  
What the fuck was that about?  
You don’t even think of trying to answer that one, instead you’re going to do the healthy thing and get up off the floor to make yourself breakfast. Or... Lunch. That’s the healthy thing to do, right..? You don’t care, you’re gonna do your best to forget this morning until after the party. That’s a problem for John in the future, not you. Out of sight out of mind.

You head downstairs to the kitchen, rummaging through the freezer for a TV dinner, grabbing a box of microwave macaroni and heating it up.  
Six minutes, forty-five seconds, hit start and just watch them tick down while the plastic dish spins on the microwave plate.

You space out watching the numbers tick down, snapped back to reality by the appliance beeping at you. You pull it out, grab a fork and dig in. You hardly taste it anymore, but it’s sustenance and calories, so you eat it. The cheese sauce isn’t really mixed in, and some of the noodles are still half frozen, but your body needs the energy.

The noodles were gone before you knew it, but now you’re just staring at the empty tray and tapping your fork in the sauce arrhythmically. When was the last time that you had a good home cooked meal, or went to a restaurant? You can’t remember, every meal is a blur of tv dinners, store bought pizzas and vaguely Chinese takeout. That should upset you, right? So why don’t you feel anything about it?

You stand up and push in your chair, dumping the tray into your overflowing trash can, making a mental note to metaphorically dump these gloomy thoughts into the garbage as well. Glance at the clock, nearly 4pm. You should probably go buy the drinks for the party. Slip on shoes and socks, grab your house key, step outside and lock the door behind you, then let yourself disappear into the wind.

The breeze is light today, but you’ve got the time to take things slow. The winds take you here and there, and you coerce them in the general direction of the grocery store, but it’s nothing major. You don’t want to influence the local weather this late in the day, no sense in giving the meteorologists a headache over a trip to the store. Eventually, the wind gathers outside the store in a rough you-shaped gale force, and you touch down. A few people notice, but to your relief, nobody stops you or makes a scene.

The liquor isle is confusing. What are all of these brands? What alcohol percentage is too much or too little? Is this a good deal? How much do you need to grab? You give up and grab something with packaging that resembles what you remember Bud Light looking like before the game. You grab four 6 packs, 24 cans should be enough, right? Whatever, beer is beer, and your friends aren’t serious drinkers the last time you checked. Or maybe they’ve been drinking more since you’re all old enough now? You wouldn’t know. God, that’s an unsettling thought. You grab a 2-liter of club soda when you’re heading to check out, just to be safe. 

For all of the advancements made on Earth C, it’s aggravating that the concept of self-checkout hasn’t been invented yet.  
The cashier makes a face when she sees your haul, but when she looks up to you yourself, her eyes go wide. Oh please not right now-

YOUNG TROLL: m-mist£r £gb£rt..!  
JOHN: that’s me.  
YOUNG TROLL: i-i-i. umm!  
YOUNG TROLL: p-paP£R OR PLASTIC, S-SIR?

You’re trying really hard to be casual right now, unsure whether you should laugh or be embarrassed.

JOHN: uh. paper?  
YOUNG TROLL: T-THAT’LL B£ $24.48, UM  
YOUNG TROLL: CASH O-OR CA  
JOHN: cash.  
JOHN: here you go.

You hand the cashier $30, and she fumbles to put it into the register. You’re holding up the line now, the customers behind you having long since started to stare, talking about you in whisper, mostly due to how loud she’s being. Okay, you’re definitely embarrassed. For some reason everyone murmuring “It’s him” and “That’s Mr. Egbert-“ is making you super uncomfortable. The cashier must notice the sour look on your face, because she fidgets with her name-tag and clears her throat.

YOUNG TROLL: YOUR C-CHANG£ IS $5.52, WOULD YOU *ah£m*  
YOUNG TROLL: would you lik£ your r£c£ipt, sir?  
JOHN: no thank you.  
YOUNG TROLL: ok, hav£ a um-  
YOUNG TROLL: hav£ a nic£ day..!  
JOHN: thanks, you too!

You pocket your change and grab the bags, getting a move on for the exit. The wind’s calmed down since you arrived earlier. You pull your phone out of your hoodie pocket and check the time, almost 5pm now. Making sure to keep a firm grip on the bags, you close your eyes and let yourself become the breeze. It’s probably best to head straight to Jade’s house with winds as still as these, you don’t want to be late.

Becoming one with the weather is a surreal experience. You’re not really aware of yourself, but you see everything that the wind sees, even if you don’t want to. You watch the sun stretch across the horizon, slowly obscuring itself behind the tree-line. Something about that sight always sparks a little bit of jealousy in you. It just makes disappearing look so easy, and every time you watch a sunset, a little bothersome part of you is envious. Deep down in you, you can’t help but think; “You could do that.” You could turn into harmless gusts of wind and nobody would be able to make you come back. You wouldn’t even have to explain yourself, because the wind doesn’t talk, she only whispers. She doesn’t answer to anyone but herself, and..

Wait.  
Since when—  
How long have you thought of the wind as a girl?

It doesn’t feel incorrect, does it? The wind is gentle when it’s complacent, blowing through your hair on a cool spring day. But it also becomes fervent when angry, whipping your umbrella this way and that. The wind is powerful, strong enough to lift airplanes or uproot trees. But the wind is also nurturing, carrying seeds and pollen under its wing to spur new growth. You respect and embrace the wind, but. In a sense, you are the wind, aren’t you?

Haha wow okay you shake that thought from your mind right the fuck now. Such a simple question has no right to be stirring up this many feelings! It’s dumb anyways, right? Why would you even care? Pirates referred to their vessels as if they were women, lots of people say the moon is a woman, so who cares if you see the wind as a girl? You’re the Heir of Breath, not the Heir of Feelings That Make You Want To Go Home And Lie Down On The Couch.

Who the hell gives a shit, anyways? Not you, and your thoughts are yours and yours alone. No one else can hear them. So what the hell is going on? You’re perfectly fine seeing the wind as a g-..

What the fuck?

Suddenly you’re lost, completely unaware where you are. The wind isn’t giving you her sight anymore and oh my god what did you JUST say about the wind being a woman? Come on, John, get a grip. You focus, hard, but nothing’s happening. You can hear the wind but you see nothing, it’s all just the sound of breezes whipping past and around you in an infinite loop.

In less than a second, your feet hit the ground, wind haphazardly clumping together into your vague shape in such a rush that your head spins. You’re half wind, half person when you fall to your knees, your aspect forcing you to materialize prematurely. It hurts all over. Your knees are aching and your arms burn with fatigue. It feels like an eternity before you’re in one solid piece again, falling to your side and clutching your chest. Not because you can’t breathe, but because you’re so full of wind that you’re coughing it up. You dry heave onto the ground, bile itching the back of your esophagus.

The air is almost gone when a final cough barrels out of you, making you hack and spit out some blood.  
You lie there for a while, refusing to take in your surroundings because even that would be too much external stimulus right now. It takes a minute for everything to settle, but when it does, a wave of relief washes over you unlike any you’ve ever experienced. You can finally breathe regularly again, and your limbs don’t ache as much, but your chest still hurts, and your throat still burns with acid. You sit up and get yourself together. 

It looks like you... ‘Crash-landed’ in the middle of a forest. The nearby trees have gashes in them, presumably from the onslaught of wind you likely created by forming here? There’s a small pit in the dirt where you’re sat, almost like a crater. It’s... Kind of hard to look at, just like your trashed bedroom earlier.

You stand up.  
What the fuck just happened to you?  
Your head is pounding, so you’re definitely awake. And your headache also means that your heart is still pumping, so that’s a plus, probably. You reach into your pocket, finding your phone largely undamaged. Your lock screen reads 7:07pm, followed by a handful of new notifications from a worried sister wanting to know where you are. You don’t answer. You scan your immediate vicinity for any sign of the grocery bags you brought with you, spying one of them caught on a thick tree branch above you, and the other to your right impaled on a bush, club soda dripping out of a hole in the bottom of the bag.

Well, shit. At least maybe the alcohol is fine? You shake yourself awake, standing up slowly, still getting head-rush despite your efforts. You open the maps app on your phone and you’re.. Miles away from Jade’s place. God damnit, of course. There’s no way you’ll even be fashionably late by this point. 

Although... What if you were never even late to begin with? You could make it if you just retcon yourself there on time. It wouldn’t be that hard.

Okay, you dust yourself off and concentrate. It’s been a while. First, you zap up to the first bag, wrestling it out of the tree and into your hand, then go back a bit and ensure that the second bag never crashes into that bush, and... Done. Two bags full of booze and two liters of club soda fully intact. You can’t help but be a little prideful, brushing your fingers through your hair thoughtlessly, fixing it enough to make you presentable. But one look at your hand though reveals that you’re, er. Kind of bloody? Yikes. You put the bags down gently and open your camera app, getting a brief look at yourself. You’re scratched up kind of bad, but no bruises or anything, so you just zap into a town close by and nab a few band-aids, leaving a dollar or two in their place. 

You zap back, unwrapping the band-aids that you convince yourself that you did not steal, before putting them over a couple of the worst scratches. Are they even band-aids anymore on Earth C? Probably not. You’re pretty sure that “Band-Aid” was just the name of the brand that made most adhesive bandages on your Earth, not the name of the actual thing. Like Kleenexes. Kleenexes were just tissues, but somehow they dominated the market so hard that they became synonymous with tissues in general. Jesus, capitalism sucks. They’re adhesive bandages now, case closed.

When you’re putting the last adhesive bandage on, your hand brushes a bit of stubble you must have missed, but you push down the feelings, refusing to dwell on them as you put your phone away.  
It’s been such a long time since you used your retcon powers like this, hasn’t it? You’d nearly forgotten how it felt. Well, there’s no sense in waiting now. You picture Jade’s house a little over an hour ago, and...

zap


	3. Des Larmes de Déjà-Vu

You’re outside in a second, checking your phone to confirm that it’s now about 5:56pm, perfect. You step up to the gate and press the button to buzz in.  
You’ve been calling this place Jade’s house, but in reality it’s more like a huge lab that she just lives in. You’re just starting to grow antsy when Jade’s voice comes out of the tinny speaker.

JADE: john!! you made it!  
JOHN: hehe, yeah  
JOHN: why wouldn’t i?  
JADE: because you are the king of not making it to things :P  
JOHN: hey!  
JADE: i’m not wrong!  
JADE: now quit being nerdy over the intercom and come in already, dummy!  
JOHN: right, ok  
JADE: we’re on the fifth floor!

You sigh when you let go of the talk button. Are you really that much of an inconsistent friend that she thought you might bail? God, you really hope that’s not the vibe you give off.

The gate opens and you make your way up Jade’s driveway, stepping into her ridiculous garage and looking for the... Elevator? Did your sister really replace her front door with an elevator? Jesus. You kind of hate that you didn’t think of that first. You hit the button for the fifth floor and the doors close, the lift jostling to life soon thereafter.

The elevator is slow. Slow enough to give you time to think, which is never a good thing. Like, fuck, you didn’t realize how much you really didn’t want to be here until now when you’re literally in the building. You’re dotted with adhesive bandages, your hair is a mess, you’ve got eye bags visible from a mile away, and you’re dealing with thoughts that definitely do not bother you or feel intrusive in the slightest. What kind of message are you trying to send? You look like a walking cry for help. Maybe you should just zap back to before you accepted the invitation and-

Ding.

Ugh. Well, fuck you clockwise.

——————————————————

JADE: of course i’m worried about him!!  
JADE: aren’t you??  
DAVE: obviously but like  
DAVE: i think youre having this revelation kinda late sis  
DAVE: john has had me worried since year one post sbruh  
ROXY: wait  
DAVE: lemme finish hold on  
ROXY: no stfu  
ROXY: what did u just say  
DAVE: i think that jades having this eureka moment a bit la-  
ROXY: no after that  
ROXY: did u just say sbruh  
DAVE: yeah why  
ROXY: jfc  
ROXY: i will not let u refer to the torture sim that permanently traumatized me as ‘sbruh’  
DAVE:  
DAVE: fair  
DAVE: my bad  
DAVE: i can see how that would be insensitive  
ROXY: u think so?

Jeez, less than ten minutes into your party and the guests are already bickering. You wish you could be surprised, but you know all of your invitees too well for that to be possible. You, one Jade Harley, have been planning this get-together for weeks. The guest list was carefully selected as to avoid any possible unnecessary hostility between your friends, with one or two people pointedly not invited in the interest of this.  
Jane first, because her being a literal 1% trillionaire and presidential candidate is extremely alienating to pretty much everyone you know. Then after Jane, Dirk is... You aren’t sure he even has a contact number or address for you to send an invite to.

You turn your attention back to the other two Stri-londe boys bickering amongst themselves, and you’re about to chip in to calm them down when the ding of the elevator grabs everyone’s attention. The doors seem to open in slow motion, even though you know who’s on the other side.

But then they’re open, and all of the tension in the room dissolves. Except for yours. 

JOHN: uh  
JOHN: hi, guys!

John steps out of the elevator rather uneventfully and awkwardly, two paper bags in his arms. Even from a distance he looks sallow, and thin. And tired. The hoodie and sweatpants don’t help. The sight of him like this pokes and prods at the part of your brain responsible for empathy towards all of with quasi-familial ties to you. It isn’t until now that you realize just how much you missed him. How much you still miss him.  
How much you miss your brother.

JOHN: i um  
JOHN: i brought drinks!  
JOHN: and i b-oof!

You jump up from your seat and wrap your arms around him without a second thought.

JADE: you’re here!!  
JADE: oh my god john you’re HERE! :D!!

John’s arms hang suspended in the air, unmoving, not even to reciprocate the embrace. He’s silent, and for a second you’re worried you might have knocked the wind out of him with the force of your sudden, spring-loaded sibling-hug, but then he makes a noise. It’s a kind of muffled choke, and when you pull away he’s...

There are tears already halfway down his cheeks, his eyes are screwed shut but his mouth is twisted into a goofy smile. He’s holding down any noise that would give it away, but he might as well be sobbing. You didn’t notice until now, but he’s shaking too, and when he goes to speak, it takes him a few tries to get it right.

JOHN: h-hi jade!!  
JOHN: i  
JOHN: ...fuck  
JOHN: hold on-

Then he drops the bags to the floor, and turns into the wind.

JADE: john!!  
JADE: wait, no!! come bac  
zap.

——————————————————

You turn your attention back to the other two Stri-londe boys bickering amongst themselves, and you’re about to chip in to calm them down when the ding of the elevator grabs everyone’s attention. The doors seem to open in slow motion, even though you know who’s on the other side.

But then they’re open, and all of the tension in the room dissolves.

JOHN: hi everybody!

John walks over to your dining table and puts two heavy-looking paper bags down on it, rolling his shoulders and putting his arms out. He wraps his fingers together and stretches, popping his knuckles.  
It’s all extremely casual for a guy nobody has seen in almost two years.  
Then he comes up to your group and inserts himself into the conversation like it’s nothing, turning to Dave.

JOHN: hi dave!  
JOHN: what’s up?  
DAVE:

Dave is quiet for a second. If you were a more observant person you would be  
able to practically see the gears turning in his head deciding where to take this conversation. It almost looks like he’s about to be serious but when he speaks, it’s as relaxed and stoic as ever.

DAVE: not much  
DAVE: finding myself, the whole sha-bang  
DAVE: working on albums and shit  
DAVE: nothing outside of the dave strider norm  
JOHN: hehehe  
JOHN: there’s a norm?  
DAVE: of course theres a norm weve been over this dude  
DAVE: im not exactly a complex guy nowadays  
ROXY: ok i call bs on that  
ROXY: u are a complex motherfucker  
DAVE: i mean duh thats not what im  
DAVE: ok rewind think about it like this  
DAVE: im like a rubiks cube  
JOHN: what??  
DAVE: if you can solve the 3x3 you can solve the 5x5  
DAVE: if i can accept my sexuality i can accept my trauma  
ROXY: that is  
ROXY: not how it works  
ROXY: i am walking counter evidence of this  
ROXY: i accepted my gender situation but that doesnt mean i am suddenly fixed  
DAVE: i mean i know that  
DAVE: obviously its not that simple everybodys complicated  
DAVE: point is  
DAVE: im working on it  
ROXY: ill let it slide but only bc i dont like where this convo is going  
ROXY: im gonna get a coke

Jeez these two do not know how to stop talking, do they?  
John doesn’t seem to care, at least? You can’t get a good read on him. He turns to you.

JOHN: oh-  
JOHN: hi jade!  
JOHN: sorry for getting distracted  
JADE: don’t worry about it!

He wraps his arms around you in a tight hug.

JOHN: grrr i missed you! haha  
JOHN: it’s been forever!  
JADE: i know!  
JADE: but i’m so glad you showed up

He releases the hug and a flash of guilt crosses his face, but he shakes it off.

JOHN: i wouldn’t miss this for the world  
JADE: aww :')  
JADE: so, umm  
JADE: not to change the subject but, john?

He cringes.

JOHN: y-yeah?  
JADE: what happened?

His shoulders tense.

JOHN: what do you m-mean?  
JADE: the band-aids?

He looks confused, but then he laughs, like you just told a joke only he was in on.

JOHN: oh! duh, hahaha!  
JOHN: i...  
JOHN: got a cat  
JADE: a cat??  
JOHN: yup!  
JOHN: she’s still getting used to me, so i got really scratched up when i tried to clip her nails  
DAVE: never pegged you as a cat person egbert  
DAVE: i thought we were supposed to all three be dog people and outnumber rose in her little cat corner  
JOHN: we were?  
JOHN: and i’m not really a cat person! i like cats and dogs equally!  
DAVE: said the guy with a cat  
JOHN: i’m allowed to not have a preference!  
DAVE: nah bro  
DAVE: this is black and white  
DAVE: open and shut  
DAVE: which do you like better  
JOHN: dude, w-what?  
JADE: hold on  
JADE: wait..  
JADE: okay, hold still  
JADE: *sniff sniff sniff*

Dave looks at you, bewildered, actively surprised by what you’re doing.

DAVE: sis what  
DAVE: im trying to make john make his big choice here why are you getting all olfactory on him  
JADE: quiet!! hold on >:(  
JADE: john you don’t even smell like a cat  
JOHN: i-i-  
JADE: not even your god-tier robes! how hard did you wash these?  
JOHN: c-can we please stop talking about my cat???

You eye him down, squinting your eyes at him. You can tell when your brother is lying to you, and right now you feel pretty positive that John hasn’t touched a cat in years, but... You look harder.  
He looks scared.  
Scared of you, and Dave.  
Scared of two of the three people closest to him in the whole world.  
And it’s that one observation that makes your heart hurt.

So you back off, play it calm.

JADE: okay, silly :P  
JOHN: oh-  
DAVE: of course dude  
DAVE: you know im just picking on you about it i dont care which popularly domesticated animal you prefer  
DAVE: i literally couldnt care less which household quadruped you like more than the other

God you’re glad Dave is so quick to pick up social cues right now. But John doesn’t un-tense. He stutters a reply despite you and Dave’s attempts to show you aren’t going to antagonize him.

JOHN: sorry i u-um  
JOHN: i think i’m g-gonna  
JOHN: go get some fresh air..!  
DAVE: what  
JOHN: you know!  
JOHN: g-go collect myself!  
JADE: but-  
JOHN: jeez this is embarrassing! i think m-my allergies are acting up or something i’ll be right back!!

Then he just saunters away from you two, out the door to the balcony before you can stop him.

What just happened??

ROXY: uh  
ROXY: what did i miss


	4. Face à L’ignorance

This party was a mistake.  
Actually? No, that’s not fair to Jade. She probably spent lots of her personal time arranging this whole get-together.  
You _coming_ to this party was a mistake.  
You knew how this would pan out before you even left for drinks, because it’s always the same. Good first impressions, but then you get dug into a conversation and start feeling terrible and wrong. And now as you’re sitting out on Jade’s balcony with your legs hanging off the side between the banister supports, it’s very tempting to retcon yourself out of tonight.

You want to. Really.  
But what kind of friend would that make you? You already erased your first try when you got here earlier, and using your retcon powers too much in one day always makes you feel strange.  
So it’s the balcony for you tonight, all night spent overlooking one of many downtowns in the Troll Kingdom. Lights turn on one by one in the windows of buildings that dot the horizon line, just a reminder that time hasn’t stopped moving while you’ve been out here avoiding talking to friends you cherish.

Before you can beat yourself up anymore, the door behind you opens and a girl in black hi-tops steps out onto the balcony with you. You sigh.

JOHN: listen, i  
JOHN: i know you probably only want to talk but  
JOHN: i’m fine, i promise  
JOHN: please go away  
ROSE: Hm.  
ROSE: Well that’s certainly one way to greet to your oldest friend.

You turn around and face Rose.  
You expect her to be wearing something extravagant for a Valentine’s day party, like a pretty dress with lace and ribbons, with lavender and jade highlights to symbolize her and Kanaya being together? You aren’t exactly a fashion expert. Instead though, she’s opted for mom jeans and a comfy black blouse with Kanaya’s symbol on it, rounding out her ensemble by tying an oversized pullover around her waist. Her makeup is light, but striking and bold nonetheless. The whole look is so casual, but still so undeniably... Her. It makes you feel silly thinking she’d overdress for a friendly meetup between close friends. As if being pretty is her defining trait.

ROSE: Is this spot taken?  
JOHN: ...  
ROSE: Good.

She sits down on the floor of the balcony next to you, kicking her legs out off the side like you.

ROSE: Have you ever considered moving out of the Human Kingdom?  
JOHN: ...  
ROSE: I know the familiarity of it is pleasant and sound, but you can’t disagree with the skyline here.  
ROSE: Surely you can see how Old Alternian architecture would be more attractive than boring skyscrapers and can-house silhouettes.  
JOHN: rose  
JOHN: please go back inside  
ROSE: Well then.  
ROSE: I didn’t want it to come to this but if I can’t get you to talk, then you’ve left me no other option than to have Kanaya use her psychic powers to make you tell me what you’re feeling.  
JOHN: she can do that???  
ROSE: No. But the possibility got your attention, didn’t it?

You groan. She’s right, naturally.

JOHN: what do you want?  
ROSE: Nothing in particular, truthfully.  
ROSE: A conversation would be nice, if you’ll humor me.  
JOHN: ...  
JOHN: okay  
ROSE: Okay?  
JOHN: what do you want to talk about?  
ROSE: Now we’re getting somewhere.  
ROSE: But let me propose this;  
ROSE: What would _you_ want to talk about?  
ROSE: Surely the person who has been missing for fourteen months has more to say than I do.  
JOHN: rose...  
ROSE: John?

You cringe when she says that. Maybe it’s something about the way she says it sounds... Poisonous. It feels sharp, and spiteful. Like an insult. Sure, you always shrink a little when people address you, that’s fine. But there’s something about the way that Rose says it specifically that makes you twist up inside and turn away from her.

ROSE: What’s wrong?  
JOHN: i’m sorry  
ROSE: Oh.

And then the balcony is quiet. Uncomfortably so. Rose lets the silence stretch on and fester, and that makes you feel worse, you think? Enough so that you pull your legs in and hug them to your chest. When Rose finally does break the silence, you’re caught off guard by the way she does it.

ROSE: Me too.  
JOHN: huh?  
ROSE: I’m sorry.

Hearing her say that aloud is enough to get you to turn around. Rose is looking out off the balcony, not focused on any specific thing on the city skyline. She’s upset, and the fact that it feels like your fault makes you mad at yourself.

JOHN: rose-  
JOHN: what do you have to be sorry to me for???  
JOHN: you aren’t the one who disappeared for a year without warning  
JOHN: or the one who doesn’t text back for days at a time for no good reason  
JOHN: you never lied about being too busy to hang out, just to avoid seeing people!  
JOHN: that was me! only me!!  
JOHN: you didn’t ever c-  
ROSE: I abandoned you.  
JOHN: y-y  
JOHN: ..huh?  
ROSE: You were hurting.  
ROSE: You _are_ hurting.  
ROSE: And I never asked you why, John.  
ROSE: Tell me, when was the last time I called you?  
JOHN: i-  
ROSE: Or asked if you were available?  
ROSE: Tell me, John Egbert.  
ROSE: Tell me about a single time I got in touch with you in the last year. Or the last two years.  
ROSE: Because if you can do that, then I have nothing to apologize for!  
JOHN: hh-h-

You realize after she’s finished talking that she’s sitting on her knees to face you now. You don’t know when she did that. Are you breathing correctly right now? You don’t feel like you are. You’re making this noise that sounds like breathing, but your lungs aren’t really expanding in your chest all that much.

ROSE: You can’t.  
ROSE: And that’s why I’m sorry.

Your face is hot.  
When did you start crying?  
Rose puts her head in her hands.

ROSE: I’m sorry, because-  
ROSE: ...  
ROSE: God.  
ROSE: What the hell am I doing?

She lifts her head up from her hands. There are stray tears going down her cheeks too. Your head feels full of cotton that only some words can penetrate.

ROSE: I didn’t mean to make this about me, John.  
ROSE: I just g-  
JOHN: stop  
ROSE: Pardon?  
JOHN: please stop saying that word  
ROSE: I don’t-  
ROSE: Which word?  
JOHN: that name  
JOHN: please stop saying it like that

The words come out without coercion. You’re not even sure if you’re the one who said them. You hear them come out of you, and you hear the voice that says them; but you can’t piece it together in your mind that it’s your voice and that you’re the one speaking. It’s like the pieces were never meant to fit each other, but you’ve been forcing them together for your whole life, because they’re the only pieces you have.

Rose opens her mouth to speak once, but nothing comes out. She hesitates and purses her lips together. You aren’t facing her anymore, but she keeps her gaze on you, orchid-colored eyes full of thought and worry.

ROSE:  
ROSE: Okay.

And then it’s silent. The vague party sounds inside are still present, and the hum of city life below hasn’t stopped, but all conversation between the two of you has ceased. You shut your eyes and focus on trying to breathe.

A few breathing exercises that make you feel ridiculous, and you’re in the moment again. 

You look at Rose, who’s alternating between crossing and uncrossing her fingers and picking at her nail polish in anxiety. You try to speak, but it doesn’t feel the same anymore. It takes effort to make it feel right, now.

johN: how lo-  
JOHn: Uh  
JOHN: how long have you...  
JOHN: been feeling like that  
JOHN: about this  
ROSE: Elaborate.  
JO HN: like  
JOHN: thinking you let me down?  
ROSE: Not long enough, if I may be so melodramatic.  
ROSE: Upwards of several months, I suppose.  
ROSE: Why?  
JOHN: because i don’t...  
JOHN: i don’t want you to think you’re a bad friend  
JOHN: or even a sub par friend  
JOHN: or feel like you’re the only person at fault  
JOH n: because youre none of those things  
JOHN: you’re a wonderful friend, and I wanted to be alone  
JOHN: that’s not your fault

Rose nods, kind of morosely.

ROSE: Believe it or not, I’m not as broken up about it as I might have appeared.  
ROSE: I really shouldn’t have blown up on you like that.  
ROSE: In truth, I think it’s likely I was already on edge because I couldn’t believe you were actually here.  
ROSE: Jade told Kanaya and I that you were, but actually seeing you was different.  
JOHN: oh  
ROSE: I know, hard to believe.  
ROSE: Rose Lalonde having a tough time connecting to other people and butchering a social interaction?  
ROSE: It’s more likely than you think.  
JOHN: heh  
ROSE: So don’t worry about me too much, alright?  
ROSE: I’m doing better than my outburst would imply.  
ROSE: You, however?  
ROSE: I’m not as sure about that.  
JOHn: oh  
JOHN: right  
ROSE: Are you comfortable talking to me about what’s going on, Jo-  
ROSE: ...You.  
J OHN: me  
ROSE: Let me pose a better question:  
ROSE: Are you comfortable telling me why you’ve been isolating yourself?  
JOHN: i  
JOHN: i don’t really know?  
JOHN: i want to  
JOHN: but i don’t know how  
JOHN: the reason isn’t something i can just...explain  
JOHN: it’s my Life now  
JOHN: it’s like.. asking you why you have your hobbies  
JOHN: you just.. do  
ROSE: Hm.

Rose looks at you, this time more thought in her gaze than worry.

ROSE: Please take this in the least psychoanalytic way possible, but how have you been feeling?  
JOHN: oh gosh  
JOHN: in general?  
ROSE: Whatever you find easiest.  
JOHN: right um  
JOHN: kind of... heavy all the time?  
JOHn: and  
JOHN: ashamed  
JOHN: of who i’ve become?  
ROSE: How so?  
JOHN: like  
JoH N: uh

You’re struggling to find an answer to her question, but Rose sits patiently. She doesn’t usher an answer out of you, or look at you expectantly, she just sits facing you ready for your answer whenever you’re ready to give it. God, you forget how great your friends are too much. You try your best to articulate an answer.

JOHN: it’s like  
jo hN: i don’t like who john egbert is anymore?  
JOHN: and l-...  
JOHN: sorry, this is stupid i’m making no sense  
ROSE: No, please, go on.  
ROSE: If you’re comfortable doing so.  
JOHN: i  
JOHN: i can try

You start to absently pick at a hangnail to help you focus.

JOHN: i don’t...  
JOHN: i don’t like looking at him or thinking about him for too long  
J OHN: he makes me feel kind of  
JOh n: um  
JOHN: sick?  
ROSE: ...

Oh fuck you totally made it awkward why isn’t she saying anything she’s just looking at you-

ROSE: That sure is one way for someone to refer to themselves.  
ROSE: What is it about... Him.  
ROSE: That makes you feel sick, if you know.  
JOHN: it’s like...

And just as you’re about to stutter out something nonsensical, your phone buzzes in your pocket.

JOHN: hold on  
JOHN: can i-  
ROSE: By all means.  
JOHN: t-thanks

You don’t get very many notifications, so you unlock your phone and check who it could... Be.  
Oh.

j oHN: oh  
ROSE: What is it?  
JOHN: terezi’s texting me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanted to try some fun formatting things with Egbert's text this chapter, let me know if it's too distracting!


End file.
